When I've had an hour's rest, I'll be after Blueskin. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something.
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